


Beyond

by Haley3



Series: Flat Dreams inspired [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Flat Dreams AU, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Things changed or maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haley3/pseuds/Haley3
Summary: In another reality, Mephis Zeebub decided to keep her son, by damaging his sides. In this reality, Bill grew as an Isosceles. He has a mother who loves him dearly and father who supports him.Still, he longs for more.Based on the last chapter of "Flat Minds"





	Beyond

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Flat Minds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903247) by [PengyChan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PengyChan/pseuds/PengyChan). 



> When I read the final chapter of Flat Minds and then talked with Pengy, I expressed my desire to read something about the first reality she wrote about.  
> Her answer was: "The only thought of what YOU could write with these premises is both wonderful and terrifying at the same time".  
> How could I not write anything, after this kind request?  
> (Yes, it was a request, ssssh, I heard it like that)
> 
> This is the last one of this series and I hope you will enjoy it! As always, if there are some mistakes, please let me know and feel free to leave a comment <3

The little Hexagon was whimpering at full blast, a hand clinging to his father's raincoat, the other raised to rub saliva and tears over his whole form. He could have been five or six years old, but he was so wide that his shape occupied half of the street and exceeded his father's width. It looked like a house that wanted to hide behind a tree.

That was  _ so  _ pathetic.

Billy wanted to say it, but quick footsteps approached them. He turned around: his mother was running toward them, the shopping bags dropped on the ground a couple of meters behind and a sleeve of her jacket that hung on one side.

Billy moved to straighten her jacket, but his mother get past his outstretched hand and put her arms around his shape, pulling him back.

-What... what happened?- she asked, panting.

-Woman!- exploded the father of the little whiner. -Your son bumped into mine!-

His mother's grip tightened and she forced Billy to take another step back.

-Oh, my good sir!- she replied, her voice full of tears. -Please, forgive him!-

The brat Hexagon, on the contrary, started to whimper again and pulled his father's sleeve: the adult glanced at him and, when he focused on his mother again, his expression was sharper, more rigid, more menacing. Billy stiffened: it was a hundred times more frightening than the look his father gave him when he got angry.

His mother's grip broke up and she walked past him. With a wail, she fell to her knees in front of the Pentagon, put her hands to the eye and began to sob strongly, overwhelming the whining of the little Hexagon, who stopped, taken aback.

Billy reached his mother, knelt beside her and stroked her back, trying to console her. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the prying glances of some passing Squares and saw an adult Hexagon look back, attracted by the high-pitched crying of the Line. Bill turned to the Pentagon: he was looking around too, aware of that sudden attention. The adult looked down, cleared his throat and smoothed his raincoat, shaking off his son's sticky hand.

-All right, female, now stop it,- scolded her, awkwardly. -Today I’ll let it pass. But teach better manners to your child.-

-Yes, yes, of course!- his mother immediately exclaimed, lowering the volume of her sobs. -Thanks, good sir! Thank you very much!-

-Okay, okay.- the Pentagon cleared his throat a second time and threw embarrassed glances on both sides of the road. He turned around in a hurry and pushed his son, forcing him to precede the adult on the street. The little Hexagon rubbed his eye again and tried to blather something: his father silenced him with a dry  _ sssh! _ , which blocked any protest and forced him to walk away from there.

Billy caught a movement, under the palm of his hand: his mother, still on her knees, had straightened herself and was spying the two shapes behind her hands, waiting.

Father and son turned around the corner: his mother lowered her hands from the dry eye, pulled herself up and shook the dust off.

-Sweetheart,- turned to him, with a smile and a voice full of joy, -Please, be kind and help me to pick up the shopping bags. I bought something you will definitely like.-

These words were enough to ignite a spark of curiosity in him, and Billy preceded her to the bags she dropped, trying to find, among the fallen things, something that would attract his attention.

-What did you get? What?-

His mother chuckled.

-Help me carry the bags to home and you'll know. Okay?-

-Yes!- he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

His mother laughed again and handed him one of the two bags. Billy grabbed it with both hands: its weight made him sway and he backed away to keep his balance.

-It weighs too much, sweetheart?-

-No, I can do it,- he said. -I'm a big shape!-

She giggled and, while holding the bag with one hand, put the other around his shape and together they headed towards home. His mother’s hand was warm and kind, full of love as always. Billy looked down at the bag: with every step, his feet peeked over the white edge.

He remembered the angry gesture, with which the Pentagon had shaken off his son's hand. His mother had never done something like that to him.

-It wasn’t my fault,- he said. He raised his eye to his mother. -You saw how wide he was, that guy. It was  _ him  _ who bumped into me.-

A small sigh.

-I know, sweetheart,- his mother replied. -But we’re Isosceles and he’s a Hexagon. You can’t tell him that it's his fault.- she friendly poked one of his sides. -Besides, it's not nice tell some other child’s “wide”.-

-But he  _ is  _ wide!-

-That’s not nice anyway,- his mother insisted. -Keep it for yourself. He’s a too high-grade.-

-That’s why you pretended to cry?-

His mother’s embrace loosened and she lifted a finger under her his eye, in a sign of silence.

-That’s our secret,- she answered. -But I can’t always do it, sweetheart: when you’ll be older, it will not work anymore.-

They reached the house door. His mother opened it and Billy came inside first, heading for the kitchen. She followed him, passed him and took the heavy bag from his hands.

-Good job, my little sweetheart.- and she kissed him over his eye. Then she put the bags on the table, opened one of them and put everything in the cupboard.

Billy sat up and swung his legs in midair, his hands clinging to the edge of the chair, his eye following his mother while she was taking a box, going to the sideboard and stretching to put it on the top shelf. Her limpid eye and her stretched form clashed with the image of her weeping, bent over herself.

-I don’t like this place.-

His mother turned, her eye on him.

-What you don’t like, sweetheart?-

-Nothing,- he replied. He looked down, sullen. -I don’t like that you had to cry in front of a shape, otherwise he mistreated you. It's stupid. The shapes here are stupid. I want to go somewhere else.-

His mother came over and held him tightly.

-My sweetheart.- her voice trembled. -My precious baby.-

Billy looked at her wet eye.

-Let's go somewhere else.- raised his hands. -Far away!-

His mother's eye curled into a warm smile.

-We could go to the mountains,- she replied, her voice hardly steadier. -Do you remember Madame Marlene, our neighbour? She went there on vacation for a month and said it was a very nice and quiet place. When dad will be too old to work, we could go and live there: you will find a good job and dad will be able to relax in a small house.-

Billy snorted.

-But the mountains are too close!- he retorted, -We can see them from here!- he raised his arms again. -Further! Beyond the mountains!-

His mother laughed.

-But there's nothing beyond the mountains, sweetheart.-

His arms fell back on the table.

-Nothing?-

-The mountains are the limit of the world.-

-And beyond the limit of the world? What's beyond it?-

-There's nothing, my child.- his mother stroked his side. -You wanted that there was something?-

-Yes!-

She laughed and gave him another kiss over the eye.

-Can you help me with dinner? If you help me, I'll let you eat a cookie right now.-

His eye lit up.

-Did you buy cookies?-

She raised a finger.

-You will only have one, though. And only if you help me. Promise?-

-I promise!-

* * *

Seen from the outside, the shop was a world apart, where shapes were moving in search of the perfect object. A noble Heptagon hesitated beside the showcases, squaring the displayed canes, from the tip to the curved handle. Two elegant Lines, immersed in a sea of feathers and fabrics, were trying on bonnets. One of them, wearing a hat decorated with black feathers, lowered her eye to the counter and searched for something in the shimmering of clocks and brooches.

Billy put his hands on the window and pressed himself forward as much as possible. From behind the counter, the Equilateral arrived: that day he was wearing a tie and his eye was already bent in the expression of when he concluded a deal. Well, not that with that Line would have been so difficult, according to how much she was attracted to the objects.

With skillful fingers, the Equilateral fished in the shimmering sea and took out a brooch, which rested against his palm and presented to the Line, cradling it as if it was his most precious jewel. The Line stretched forward, already conquered.

_ It won’t be difficult. _

The Line opened her purse and dropped a handful of secants on the counter, eye glued on the brooch. She lifted a hand, her fingers reached out to touch it...

But the Equilateral pulled the brooch back, stroked it with the tip of his finger. He said something, his eye moving from the brooch to the Line, then glanced at the feathered hat on her top. The Line waved a hand and dropped more coins on the counter.

The familiar warm shiver went through Billy, while the Equilateral passed the brooch to the female with one hand and gathered the money with the other. He made them disappear under the counter and passed from the other side to pin, in a gallant gesture, the brooch on her dress and then showed her to the nearest mirror. She flew in that direction and, with the same speed, he headed for the Heptagon looking at the walking canes.

Billy shivered again, excited: from gallant and sinuous, the Equilateral had become more easygoing, more relaxed. A new negotiation was about to take place, new coins would end up in his pockets.

He would have given  _ anything  _ to know what that Equilateral said to his clients.

-Uuurgh, are you  _ still  _ here?-

Billy winced and turned, caught off guard. There was a small group of Squares, led by a Pentagon: Rayley, if he remembered well. Or an equally stupid name.

-He's always here.-

That’s so disturbing...-

-It's a street,- answered Billy, his voice rose above the ones of the small Squares. -I'm just looking.-

-I know why you spy in there.- Rayley laughed, an annoying laugh in hiccups. -You want to be a merchant.-

Billy folded his arms.

-Yes, so what?-

All the little ones burst out laughing. A few laughed so hard, they had to dry their eyes. Rayley seemed about to choke, with that stupid, sobbing laugh. Maybe five minutes more, and he would seriously choke himself.

-An Isosceles who wants to be a merchant!- he exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. -An Isosceles!-

-So what?- Billy stomped his foot down. -If want to do it, than I’ll do it!-

-You’re really the dumbest of all!- Rayley wiped his eye and began to walk around him, pricking on his sides with his pointed fingers. -The Isosceles do only manual works, everyone knows that! There's no other job, for someone like you.-

-It's not true!-

-Oh really?- Rayley took the backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a book. He opened it, amidst the laughter of the Squares, and placed it in front of him. -Then read me this.-

Billy lowered his eye: the pages were full of incomprehensible little marks. He squinted, trying to find some meaning, but without result: the marks remained only stupid marks.

-I can’t read,- he replied, sulkily. -So what?-

The laughter rose again, higher than ever. Rayley slammed the book open against Billy’s shape and pointed to him, laughing like a madman.

-Here he is, the first illiterate merchant!-

-He can’t read a word!-

-And he wants to be a merchant!-

-And maybe he doesn’t even know how to count!-

-HEY! - Billy snapped. -I can count!-

-He can’t count, neither read, nor write!- Rayley laughed louder. -He doesn’t write ledgers, he uses just his memory!-

-His memory!-

-Even with the prices!-

-Ahaha, he tells them all out loud!-

All the Squares burst out laughing stronger, Rayley in the lead with his hateful laugh. Billy trembled with rage from top to toe. He clenched his fists: the stupid eye of Rayley, invaded by tears of fun, invited him, called him, begged him to throw a punch and make him stop being so  _ stupid _ .

-Come on, come and read something, since you really want to be a merchant!-

-Let us see what you can do!-

-An Isosceles who wants to be a merchant!-

-A merchant! An Isosceles!-

Billy bent down, grabbed the fallen book and lifted it over his top, ready to throw it against Rayley’s stupid shape. Actually, better against the eye: if he caught his eye, at least that idiot would have a real reason to cry.

-Hey, you little ones! What are you doing out here?-

Billy froze, the book still lifted above him, and turned to the shop window: the Equilateral was on the threshold of his shop, his puzzled eye running from one little one to another, his hand resting on the door handle. The same hand that cradled the brooch, collected the money, who knew how to start and conclude a negotiation.

A cascade of shame submerged him from the top to his feet and made him burn with embarrassment. With the book still tight in his hand, Billy turned around and ran away, leaving behind the roaring laughter of the Squares and Rayley.

He ran home, with a burning eye and anger running down his arms. He slammed the front door with fury and flew into his room like a hurricane. He threw Rayley's book against the wall and, still panting, let himself fall on the ground.

_ "There’s no other job, for someone like you." _

_ It's not true! _

He hit his fists on the ground and crawled over to the book. He opened it to the first page and stood in front of it, his eye burning. He would shown it to that stupid Rayley. He would show it to everyone. He would learn how to read and then read to him all the books Rayley had, to shut him up.

He would shown that there was something else for him.

* * *

\- ... and hold on tightly here, so the surface is well rigid and can hold the weight. Got it?-

Bill nodded. His father tapped the newly secured shelf and turned to look at him with his eye bent into a smile. New wrinkles added to the network that had been forming over the past three years, yet his father was still lively and strong. He still managed to fix shelves with more energy than him, to cut boards vigorously, to transport sacks and bricks without complaining.

-Good.- his father turned back to the library almost complete. -Now bring me the level.-

-Yes.- Bill turned to the shelves, loaded with tools. -Which one? The Hebene?-

As soon as the words escaped him, Bill froze.

_ Ouch _ .

He turned to his father: he was staring at him with his eye wide open and perplexed. He could almost hear the wheels snap into his head: how did his illiterate son know the names of the two different brands of levels he had? For him, they had always been "the black one" and "the gray one".

-I...- Bill began, awkward. -I memorized the names of the most important brands. So I recognize them better. And, if I have to buy a new one, I can say which one I want.-

The words floated between them, his father's eye still perplexed. Bill clung with one hand to the counter behind him: the same counter to which he clung endless times, while he stood alone in that study and leaned out to read on each package the names of all products, all brands and all materials. Day by day, one letter at a time, first pronounced, then traced in mid-air with the same chisel that his father held in his hand.

His father batted his eyelashes and frowned, as if his little brain was trying very hard to fit the pieces together. Finally, he shrugged and his eye bent into a smile again.

-Excellent choice,- praised him. -That’s the right attitude to face the job.- raised a hand. -The black one. Is that the Hebene? -

-Yes.- Bill replied. He turned to pick it up, letting out a silent sigh of relief. He removed the level from its pack and returned to his father's side. His eye was full of kindness and affection, naive enough to not have understood, even when it was so evident.

But it was far better this way. Bill feared the moment he would take a wrong step and his father would understand. And instead, it was much better than expected.

With his mother had been different. But his mother  _ was  _ different: sharper, quicker, smarter than his father. He knew it for years. It was obvious to her, when she entered the kitchen and found him standing in front of the open cupboard, staring at the products’ boxes. And he understood it, that is why he just turned and looked at her. No explanation would have helped, no excuse would have held up. What excuse, then? Why would he sit there in the kitchen, in front of an open cupboard, staring at boxes, if not because he was reading the names one by one?

He remembered when he was younger, the serious expression when she put her finger under her eye.  _ Silence _ . It wasn’t necessary to do again, when she caught him in the kitchen: it was enough to look at each other and everything was established. The deal had already been made, the agreement that had been tightened up for years, since he discovered that she pretended to cry, to receive compassion from the high-class Shapes. He never revealed his mother’s secret to anyone, she would never reveal his.

And so she entered the kitchen, all smiles, affection and kisses.  _ What do you want for dinner, honey? Would you like some stew? _

-Be sure to always use the level,- repeated his father again, -You’re never sure with just the eye: to do a good job, we need good tools. We live with this work, so we must always do it right. Got it, son?-

_ "There’s no other job, for someone like you" _

Bill shut his eye. His father was only more naive, that’s all. And he really loved his job.

-... son?- called him. -Everything okay?-

But why his mother had to pretend to cry, to receive compassion from nobles who would otherwise blame her for everything, just out of whim? Why couldn’t he learn to read like Rayley and those other stupid brats?

_ Why can’t I do the job I want? _

-Son?- his father put his hands on his arms and shook him. -Bill, can you hear me?-

-I want to leave this place.-

His father stopped.

-What?-

Bill opened his eye and looked at his father.

-I want to go away. I don’t want to stay in this city.-

His father sighed, his eye narrowed in a kind expression.

-Okay.- he gave him a pat on the arm. -I’ll retire in five years and the government will give me what I deserve for my work. With that money we’ll sell this house and buy a new, bigger one. Maybe towards the mountains.- rubbed under the eye -The air is cleaner and then it’s much quieter than the city. We can be more in touch with nature.- he took a deep breath, as if he was already savoring the fresh air of the borderlands.

Bill looked down at his feet.

_ "There’s nothing beyond the mountains" _

-But,- continued his father and Bill raised his eye again, -Until then, we’ll have to work here and put all our efforts in the job. Okay? You promise?-

Five years only. And then, something different.

Bill held out his hand.

-Deal.-

His father smiled, returning the handshake.

-And now, come here.- still holding his hand in his, he led Bill to the cabinet. -Keep the shelf up, while I put the last side.-

* * *

-That’s the room.- the Heptagon preceded him, towards the room at the end of the corridor. He slid the door open, which revealed a polygonal room. Bill held his breath: the walls were covered with bookcases full of books, of all sizes and all kinds of gray. Big and small, some with the title written on the spine, stacked and side by side, with their secrets that whispered around him.

-As you can see, the space left is not enough. But I want a new bookcase, because I've recently got some new books.-

With great effort, Bill turned his eye away from the sea of knowledge and its whispers, to bring his attention back to the Heptagon. The noble approached the only table in the room, a desk on which there were three small towers of books. One of his hands was resting on the nearest tower and caressing the cover of the book on top. Bill’s fingers stringed with desire to touch them, and he clenched his hand in a fist.

-I can’t leave them in such a mess,- continued the Heptagon, -Other two packs of fifteen will arrive tomorrow, so there’ll be a total of forty books. I need a narrow and tall cabinet, so I can put all of them there.- and pointed to a space between two bookcases.

-It's okay.- Bill put his toolbox down on the floor and bent over, to drop the planks he carried under his arm. -Your bookcase will be ready by this evening.-

-Do you want to stay inside this room?- The Hexagon glared at him. -My books are here.-

-They’ll not be ruined, sir,- Bill replied. -I'll stay right in the middle. No book will be touched.-

-Can’t you work outside?-

Bill scratched his top, the way his father did when he tried to explain himself to high-class shapes.

-Here, sir, I have an example of the work I have to do just before my eye.- he raised a hand toward the nearest bookshelf. -So I can build a bookcase similar as the one you already have. Otherwise you see the difference and it's not nice to enter such an elegant room and see that all furnitures are similar, except one. That's how it works in the big city.-

The Heptagon straightened himself up.

-So be it.- he looked down on him. -But I don’t want to see a single stain on my books.-

-There won’t be any, sir,- Bill replied. -If you see one, I'll let you pay the job for half the price we set.-

The expression of the Heptagon was reassured.

-So be it,- repeated. He turned to the door. -I’ll leave you to work. I have some business to do.-

-Your bookcase will be ready this evening.-

The Heptagon left without even looking back. Besides, why would he do that? What would he have to worry about? That a stupid, ignorant Isosceles could read his precious books?

Bill followed him with his eye, until the Heptagon walked around the corner. He closed the door again and turned to face the knowledge that awaited him.

Making furniture was easy, a piece of cake. He already had all set, he just had to put the pieces together. But what could the noble Heptagon know about how furniture was made? Bill was a renowned builder, arrived in the borderlands after spending the first few years working in the big city. The nobles of the area gathered around him and he made them believe that it took time, to make good furniture. Time, effort and, above all, to stay in the room with the books: to see the other furniture, to test the resistance of the shelves, because that’s how it worked in the city.

Those idiots believed every word, turned their backs and left him alone in their realms of knowledge. What could an Isosceles know? The Isosceles couldn’t read. He could stay with the books. For him, they were nothing more than background or weights to be placed on the shelves, at most. Right?

Right?

Bill ran his hands along the books, stroked the bounded spines, read one title after another. After two years of that little trick, by now reading had become like breathing, the words flowed like water. He had learned, little by little, all he could about the geography of their world, the chromatic rebellion, the rules and the social ladder.

He bend on his knees and looked at the last shelf. All interesting themes, but not like his favorite. The most beautiful theme, the most secret and the most hidden of all.

His fingers hesitated on a book, smaller than the others. He pulled it forward and let out a satisfied laugh, as he read the faded title on the cover.

_ "The Third Dimension" _

The laughter increased in volume and he suffocated it with a couple of deep breaths. He wanted to have that idiot Rayley in front of him, slam that book on his face and ask  _ him  _ to read.

There was nothing beyond? Did the Circles say that? Did the world really end up at the mountains? What a bunch of idiots. So gullible. All of them tricked by the great deception that was at the base of their lives.

Bill opened the book. There was something beyond. And it was infinitely bigger than he could have ever imagined.

 

 

Light was fading behind the jagged edge of the mountains. There was light because and disappeared because, that’s what the Circles said to appease the restless minds of the scientists. According to the revolutionary Cerrenton, however, the light came from the Third Dimension and vanished from his small world, to return to the infinitely larger one of ten times higher forms.

-Hey, were you here?-

Bill turned back. His mother was on the driveway, her black silhouette against the light coming from the open door of their house. She wore her apron and was drying her hands with a flap.

-Is dinner ready?-

-Yes,- she replied. She approached, until she sat on the wall beside him. Immediately her arms wrapped around him protectively, squeezing him like when he was little. -How you doing, sweetheart?-

Her words, as always, encompassed many more. In her tone, the veil of worry.  _ Everything okay, sweetheart? Everything good? Did you read today too? Nobody noticed anything, did you? _

-Everything good.-

His mother's arms still encircled him, a protection against the evening’s cold, the light that was disappearing, the knowledge that could have killed them all. The little creatures of the forest rustled and their calls spread all around.

-Mom.-

-Yes, sweetheart?-

-Do you think there’s something beyond the mountains?-

His mother's grip tightened, her form resting against his. Even if wrinkles were now surrounding her eye, those arms still held him strongly.

-Sweetheart,- her voice cracked, -I hope there’s something for you.-

* * *

Blades of wind wounded him, throwing  dust and fragments of rock against him. Bill clung with his nails, crawled along the steep mountain wall, his eye narrowed, his knees pressed against the rock’s ripples.

_ Beyond. _

_ Something beyond. _

_ Beyond the mountains. _

The books were nothing but drops of water, unable to quench his thirst. The knowledge was rationed and he walked in a scorching desert.

-Be careful, little thing,- thundered a voice all around him. -Go back.-

He winked, rubbed his eye, and resumed his march. Just what he needed, hallucinations.

-Do like I said, go back.- the incorporeal voice repeated.

-Why should I?- he shouted, turning to the sky. -Who are you, anyway?-

-I,- answered the voice, -Am the Sphere.-

-Sure, and I am the Chief Circle.- Bill protected his eye: in front of him, there was nothing but dust and rock walls.

-You don’t believe me?-

-You don’t exist, so why should I?-

-And why I don’t exist?-

-I can’t see you.-

-You can’t see me at the moment,- explained the Sphere, -Because I'm above your world and I'm watching.-

-Well, if you really are a Sphere, then you will be able to show yourself in my world!- replied Bill -Do it and I’ll trust you!-

A bodiless sigh came from all around.

-As you wish.-

A dot of light lit up in front of him, pure and bright white. Bill protected his eye behind a hand: the light faded and, before his eye, the dot widened more and more, first in a small circle, then became wider and wider, more and more circular, more and more curved. Bill screamed, stepped back and collapsed to the ground, his eye wide open to observe the perfection of that infinite circularity.

_ "A Sphere. A three-dimensional being that does not have the slightest trace of angularity." _

-Do you believe me now?- asked the voice, coming from the center of the vast circular shape. Bill lowered his arm, trembling.

-How can you do this? I mean...- tried again. -How can you exist? Are you made up of many Circles, right? But how?-

-They are many circles in height-

-In... what?-

-Height,- repeated the Sphere. -Upwards. What you see now, is only one of the infinite circles of which I’m made and they extend upwards and downwards, starting from the larger central one, then shrinking more and more.-

-Upwards? Downwards?- Bill rolled those strange words between his teeth -You mean "inside"? Or are you talking about directions? North and south from here?-

-No, I mean above and below your world.- the Sphere sighed. -I thought you were a little more intuitive than the others, but really you little Flatlanders can’t understand certain topics.-

_ “You’re really the dumbest of all!” _

Bill clenched his fists, ran to the Sphere and hit her with its sharp top. The Sphere screamed, the visible circle narrowed. Bill landed another two, three, four blows. The edge of the visible circle trembled, Bill grabbed the Sphere and forced him to stand still.

-Where are you from?- he shouted. -Tell me!-

-Leave me!-

Another hit.

-Answer me!-

-From the Third Dimension.- the Sphere whimpered. -But stop hitting me!-

_ The Third Dimension. _

His eye widened, his hands trembled and his grip on the Sphere loosened for a second. Quickly, he sank his nails into the circular edge, causing another cry from the being.

-Bring me there!- He shouted. Take me to the Third Dimension!-

-You’re crazy!-

Bill screamed angrily and hit the Sphere again.

_ -Take me there!- _

-Okay, okay, all right!- the Sphere whimpered. -I'll take you, but please stop!-

_ He’ll take me! So there's really something! They weren’t just theories! _

-Let’s make a deal,- Bill tightened his grip. -I leave you, if you take me into your Dimension. Deal?-

The Sphere sighed.

-It's not that I have any other choice,- he said. -Okay, deal.-

Bill released his grip and immediately felt himself being risen, detached from the solid rock and the cold. Everything started to spin around and he tightened his eye to stop the nausea.

When he opened it again, he was floating in a perfect white void and, in front of him, towered a magnificent shape, perfectly circular, though his upper part was scratched by small cuts covered in blood. His majestic eye stared at him angrily, a hand pressed against a deep cut that was dripping blue blood.

Bill held out his hands to that incomparable beauty, words that crowded in his mouth and could not get out.  _ I’m sorry, I exaggerated, but the Third Dimension exists, there is, and I am here and it's all thanks to you, Your Magnific... _

The Sphere pointed a finger at him.

-Take him!- he yelled. -He's the madman who attacked me!-

_... what? _

Two huge hands fell on his arms and pulled him up. Bill tried to free himself, to turn around: those who held him were two absurd, gigantic, totally irregular beings with a strange color all over them that he had never seen before.

-Stop struggling, little triangle,- one of the two beings mocked him. -It won’t help: the Infinitentiary is waiting for you.-

-All right, sir, we'll take care of him,- said the other creature, turning to the Sphere. -He won’t attack an ambassador ever again.-

Block in the grip of the two irregular giants, bounced around in midair, with the Sphere that was still holding his wounds, Bill was taken away, away from the Sphere and away from his world. Panting, unable to speak, his gaze passed from the Sphere, to the last vision of his Dimension, to the gigantic beings, to the blue hourglass that shone on their garments.

_ “Do you think, there’s something beyond the mountains?” _

_ “I hope there’s something for you.” _

 


End file.
